


Simmer

by fuzipenguin



Series: Turn Up The Heat [2]
Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Babies, Babysitting, Established Relationship, M/M, Multi, Other, Responsibility
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-18
Updated: 2020-05-18
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:02:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24244705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuzipenguin/pseuds/fuzipenguin
Summary: Seeing how well the twins are with Wheeljack and Optimus' kids gives Ratchets Ideas.
Relationships: Optimus Prime/Wheeljack, Ratchet/Sideswipe/Sunstreaker (Transformers)
Series: Turn Up The Heat [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1749988
Comments: 30
Kudos: 103





	Simmer

**Author's Note:**

> This happens quite a bit into the future when the war has ended and both factions are on Cyberton, living in relative peace while they work on rebuilding their planet.

“Do you think they’re all still alive?” Sunstreaker asked, handing a cube of energon off to Ratchet so he could punch in the door code.

Ratchet accepted the container as he dialed up his audials. There was a worrisome lack of sparkling shrieks behind the door of their apartment. “I was only gone for three hours. I wouldn’t have left him on his own if I didn’t think he could manage it.”

Sunstreaker paused, looking over his shoulder with a doubtful expression. “I know you had to help First Aid with that emergency, but it’s possible we’re going to have to tell Wheeljack and Optimus that Sideswipe did a Stupid Thing.”

Ratchet worried his bottom lip, imaging how that conversation would go. Wheeljack and Optimus were utterly devoted to their sparklings, and very few mecha were trusted to watch them while their creators were away. Ratchet, and the twins by extension, were some of the few, but it had always been sort of an unspoken rule that Sideswipe would be paired with his brother or Ratchet while sparkling-sitting.

Unfortunately, there hadn’t been anyone else Ratchet could have called on to help; Sunstreaker had been on his long range foraging shift and Prowl, Jazz, and Perceptor had all been caught up in meetings.

“It’ll be fine. They’re fine, everything’s fine,” Ratchet said determinedly after a moment. After all, Sideswipe adored the sparklings. If need be, he would dive on a bomb to protect them.

“Right. Ok then, here goes,” Sunstreaker said, squaring himself as he faced the door. Opening it a crack, he hesitantly peeked around the edge as if unsure of what he would see. After a few seconds, the tension drained out of him in one big rush.

“Damn. That is unfairly adorable,” Sunstreaker murmured, pushing the door open the rest of the way and walking through the opening. Ratchet followed him, craning his neck to the side to try and see around Sunstreaker. As soon as the couch became visible, Ratchet came to a standstill, his spark doing a weird flip in his chest.

Sideswipe was sprawled across the cushions, one leg stretched across the length of them and the other hanging off the edge, pede flat on the floor. His neck rested awkwardly on the arm of the couch, his helm otherwise unsupported. Quiet snores were evidence that Sideswipe was in recharge and completely dead to the world.

The triplets were equally out of it, resting atop Sideswipe in a variety of places. Flitter, the flier no one had anticipated, was curled up under Sideswipe’s chin, wings fluttering in response to every one of Sideswipe’s ex-vents. His brother One Shot lay on his back atop Sideswipe’s stomach, limbs starfished out in every direction. It was still early, but they all thought his frame type would end up a speedster of some sort; the red racing stripes across his white sides were obviously Wheeljack’s influence.

And finally, Tempest was held at Sideswipe’s side. Her thick blue and white frame drooped partially across Sideswipe’s elbow, her head hanging towards the floor much like her caretaker’s. She had only recently identified as a femme and took after Wheeljack in terms of scientific pursuits. Her body however, was all Optimus.

Surprisingly, the living quarters were relatively neat, more put together than when Ratchet had left. The sparklings’ toys were gathered in one corner and all of the dishes they had used during lunch were sparkling in the drying rack. As Ratchet put the energon cubes down on the low table in front of the couch, he wondered what Sideswipe’s secret was. When Ratchet had last been alone with Wheeljack’s spawn, the entire place had looked like a tornado had come through.

“Whoever thought Sideswipe would be good on his own with kids?” Sunstreaker asked as he also deposited his cube on the table. Then he reached out and gently slid his hands beneath Tempest’s small body, lifting her up to rest against his chest.

As he did so, Sideswipe stirred, cracking open one optic and raising his arm up. He made grabby fingers at the sparkling “Hey,” he croaked, glaring at Sunstreaker. “Give me back my baby.”

Damnit. There went Ratchet’s spark again.

“She’s not your baby, you know,” Sunstreaker replied, soothing a hand down Tempest’s back when she sleepily whined. “None of them are.”

“Lies. They’re all mine,” Sideswipe said, placing protective hands over Flitter and One Shot.

“… Unca Sun?” Tempest’s small voice spoke up from the curve of Sunstreaker’s neck.

“Yes, sweetspark?” Sunstreaker replied, bouncing her lightly in his arms. “Sorry to wake you up.”

“’s’kay. Missed you.”

Sunstreaker looked triumphantly over at his brother while kicking at Sideswipe’s leg on the couch. Sideswipe drew it up and Sunstreaker sat on the other end, rolling his optics when Sideswipe immediately placed his pede in his brother’s lap.

“I missed you too, sprocket,” Sunstreaker murmured, nuzzling the top of Tempest’s helm. “Uncle Ratchet’s here too… did you want to say hi?”

“Oh, Sunny, let her sleep…” Ratchet protested, but Tempest groggily pushed herself upright and looked around. Her half opened optics caught sight of Ratchet and she leaned over Sunstreaker’s arm, reaching for him.

Ratchet’s aching spark melted completely as he took her from Sunstreaker and sat down on the large chair placed perpendicular to the couch. “Hey, little one. Did you have a good time with Uncle Sideswipe while we were gone?”

Tempest nodded slowly while Ratchet watched Sunstreaker lean over and gather One Shot up. Ratchet would swear to Primus that when Sunstreaker arranged him in his arms, he pressed his nasal ridge against the top of One Shot’s head and in-vented, optics slipping closed contentedly. One Stop never even twitched.

“Yeah,” Tempest said, cuddling up against Ratchet’s windshield. “We had a race… Flits won. He cleans fast.”

Sideswipe cleared his intake and furtively looked to the side. Sunstreaker opened his optics and pinched the bottom of Sideswipe’s pede.

“Did you really turn cleaning up into a race?” Sunstreaker demanded of his twin.

Sideswipe shrugged, Flitter becoming dislodged with a sleepy squeak. Sideswipe carefully slid him downwards so he was laying directly over Sideswipe’s spark. Flitter quickly resettled as he pressed his cheek to Sideswipe’s plating to hear the beat beneath it, his thumb making its way to his mouth to suck on.

“Yeah, and?”

“It’s brilliant. I wish I had thought of it,” Ratchet said ruefully, slowly rubbing the back of Tempest’s small helm. Within seconds, she laid her head on Ratchet’s shoulder and fell back into recharge.

Sideswipe made a soft sound as he gazed upon Tempest. “Do we have to give them back? Can’t we just… run away with them?”

Sunstreaker arched an orbital ridge. “You want to kidnap the Prime’s children?”

“Ugh. Fine. You’re right, that’s a supremely bad idea,” Sideswipe said with a disappointed sigh. He scrunched his chin down so it touched his chest in order to gaze lovingly upon Flitter’s sleeping faceplates.

“Maybe you should have some of your own,” Ratchet commented, his fuel pump beating erratically. He was proud that his voice shook only a little. “So you’re not tempted to steal others’.”

“Sparklings don’t just grow on trees, Ratch,” Sideswipe said with a distracted air. Sunstreaker, on the other hand, tilted his head to the side and studied Ratchet intently. A moment later, Sideswipe’s helm shot up in shock.

“… Ratchet?”

“I told you once that I thought you and Sunstreaker would be able to kindle a new spark if you had a third partner that would actually carry. Well…” Ratchet licked his lips nervously, “… now that the war’s over… I’m willing to give it a try.”

“What happened to all the ‘I’m too old’ slag you’ve always spouted?” Sunstreaker retorted, holding on to One Shot as if someone was going to rip the two of them apart any second.

“I _am_ old… ” Ratchet admitted, “… but my gestation systems are in prime condition according to First Aid’s scans. Having these little ones around… ” Ratchet turned his head and kissed the side of Tempest’s helm, “… have made me think. Am I really that old? Being with the two of you… I don’t feel my age like I used to. Plus… I want to have something that is equally a part of me and you both.”

A single drop of optical fluid welled up and trickled down Sideswipe’s cheek as Ratchet looked on with alarm. He shifted, about to get up and go to him when Sideswipe gestured at him to stay put. Rubbing at his face, he exchanged a glance with Sunstreaker before looking back at Ratchet.

“We want that too. Like… a lot,” Sideswipe said, his voice thick with suppressed emotion. When Ratchet checked Sunstreaker’s expression, he saw a blindingly joyful smile on his face.

“I make no promises that we’ll actually conceive,” Ratchet warned.

“It’d be great if we could, but if it doesn’t happen… well, we can still sparkling sit,” Sunstreaker said.

“And half the fun is in the trying,” Sideswipe added with a saucy wink. “Besides… just for you to offer… Thank you, Ratchet. We love you so, so much. If we weren’t all holding babies, I would tackle you right now.”

Did Ratchet even have a spark left? Or had it just completely dissolved under the influx of emotion?

“I love you as well, boys,” Ratchet said softly, gazing at his mates… at his future.

~ End


End file.
